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Showing posts from March, 2009
While we're basking in the freedom of religious ranting, I had a thought this morning while pinning my hair back. I was thinking about how I've only finished half a chapter in two weeks and how that's really pathetic, because it's all due to my own procrastination and worse - earnest distractions rooted in wastefulness. Even a certain fear of the honesty of my novel - fictional honesty about me. I thought about how I've made a completed rough draft of the book into my Lenten goal. (I know, Lent isn't about goals , but I am being honest about what I promised - I wanted to vow, but I didn't. I was afraid, and so I aimed.) There was the thought about Lent, and then zing like a wink of an eye, there was this thought: the devil doesn't want you to finish your novel . Now let me be clear, I don't spend a lot of time worrying about the devil. I believe he exists as surely as I believe in hell and all its other angels. I have been in that strange place wher
a few hours later, and i'm wishing i hadn't posted that rant earlier. it's not like i have some new observation. it's just me being bothered.
Here's something I don't understand: Why do people judge Christians for being hypocrites? That's like saying, 'How dare you be call yourself a Christian and still be human!' I don't understand why people say 'I like your Christ, but I don't like your Christians.' Well, neither do I much of the time. Since when does faith have to do with liking things? Since when does loving people depending on their consistency? Granted, I've always been a Christian and I've never doubted my faith. I've always looked at the inconsistencies of Christians the same way I look at the inconsistencies of human beings. As humanness. But if your criticism of Christians is really a disagreement over their perspectives on sexuality or politics, then please don't confuse that with Christians being un-Christlike. I'm not saying they are Christlike - but I'd be making myself the hypocrite by judging them according to my own self-righteous notions.

googling prayers before sleep...

And now as we lay down to sleep, O Master, grant us repose both of body and of soul, and keep us from the dark passions of the night. Subdue Thou the assaults of passions. Quench the fiery darts of the Wicked One which are thrown insidiously at us; calm the commotions of our flesh and put away all thoughts about worldly and material things as we go to sleep. Grant us, O god, a watchful mind, chaste thoughts, a sober heart, and a gentle sleep, free from all the fantasies of Satan. And raise us up again at the hour of prayer, established in Thy commandments and holding steadfast within ourselves the remembrance of Thy judgments. Give us the words of Thy glorification all night long, that we may praise, bless, and glorify Thy most honorable and magnificent name, O Father, Son and Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen.
Maybe I'll just start blogging little snippets of where I'm going and what I'm doing. That sounds more like twitter, of course, but... well, deal with it. Heading to LA today with the sister to drop off a report to the homeless bureau or whatever it is. My real part in all of this is to make frequent stops along the way at dress stores (like Anthropologie!!!) to find something pretty and unnecessary to wear to the upcoming nuptials of friends Jennifer and Michael. Last night I dreamed about my cat. I shrunk her somehow so that she fit in the palm of my hand, and then I dressed her in miniature priestly stoles. She was full of wonder at the enormity of the world, till she discovered she had wings. Then she just took off in a frenzy, and I had to chase her around the parking lot while she flew into bushes and under cars. I finally got a hold of her to turn her back, but the magic failed to work the other way. Instead of returning her to normal size cat, she turned into a very
I'm going to the desert!!! For a night and a day!!! This means I will not be at work. (good) This means I will be seeing wonderful beautiful friends. (very good) This means I will be driving the freeways at night. (ugly)
Give me something real for we are broken and breaking still and Oprah and Phil and all the President's men can't begin to heal us again. The dead cannot resurrect themselves - a curse! a curse! for it is the One Necessary Thing! (Praise be to the God of my salvation who, though he shared his bread with sinners, also beat the dust with angels. He alone among the humans could live and die and live again - one resurrection to drag us all out of the dirt and into the ever-glory of the rising Son.)
I'm writing a novel for lent, and I am very far behind. I knew this would happen. It's for the best, I'm sure. I'll pound out some crappy filler chapters at the end, then edit them later. But at least it'll get done. Maybe. Yes. There's something about concentrated writing that makes all my other forms of communication go to pot. This morning I had an 'epiphany' regarding the final scene - it seemed so important at the time, but looking back it doesn't seem to amount to much beyond a single character's facial expression while standing over a basement. Anyway, it sent me into a frenzy of research, buzzing through home remodeling books during the hour before my store opened. They told me nothing useful. I made the mistake of asking coworkers about furnaces and basement doors. They wanted to know why. Me: 'Well, let's say a character needs this fire and an opening because for symbolic reasons, but it's not really symbolism 'cause tha

self-referral

It continues to fascinate me that the majority of traffic to this blog has occurred because of a single post made over a year ago. Okay, so that link takes you to the whole month's archive of posts. But that's exactly what google would give you, too, if you did an image search for 'Rupert Penry-Jones Persuasion' and clicked on the photo from my blog. You'd have to scroll through the whole of December, through my random thoughts on Being John Malkovich and Bella (whoever thought those two movies should be mentioned in the same blog post? What was I on?) just to find that sexy black-and-white portrait of the fellow. You're wondering why I bring this up. You're thinking, 'come on, Molly. There can't be that many people in the world searching for Rupert Penry-Jones Persuasion and picking that particular photo to dwell upon.' Well let me tell you, it happens at least once a week. From all parts of the globe! From China to Argentina! I kid you not! Th

they're at it again.

The last and best adaptation of Jane Eyre to film happened three years ago . And it took another year to be released in our land of milk and honey. So we really should get at least seven more years before another adaptation comes out. Or five. Please. Really, it's rare to get more than one in a decade - especially by the same film company. So I am hoping this is just some sick joke . For the obvious reason that it's far too soon to mar the awesome depictions by Ruth Wilson and Toby Stephens. And for the even more obvious reason that Ellen Page has no business anywhere near a Bronte. Back off, woman.

rambles: loving less

so there's this song that plays at work by a certain james morrison and famous accompaniment in which he sings about how he loves the inevitable beloved 'a little less than before.' his justification goes something like 'you just can't help what you can't help. you can't fix what's not been fixed.' his lyrics are a bit more poetic, but not by much. it's catchy, though, so it took me a while to realize that he was singing 'i'm dumping you, hope you don't mind, but it was unavoidable.' now i've never really been dumped - for obvious and uninteresting reasons - so i suppose it's not my business to comment on the process. but this is just something i don't understand. i am trying to think of a case in which i learned to love someone less as i got to know them better. there have been times when i have thought well of someone, learned more about them, and then thought less of them. but that was mostly an issue of me having